


5 times Theo couldn't sleep in Liam's house, and 1 time he could

by kindred_aquarian



Series: and they were *roommates* [2]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: 5+1 Things, Domestic Fluff, Dreams and Nightmares, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Hell Trauma, Homeless Theo Raeken, Liam's dad's name is David, Liam's mom's name is Jenna, M/M, Mentioned Corey Bryant/Mason Hewitt, Nightmares, Post-Canon, The Geyers are taking Theo in and that’s final, Theo has PTSD, Thiam, or maybe canon divergent
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-10
Updated: 2020-12-30
Packaged: 2021-03-09 01:13:39
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,217
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27486334
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kindred_aquarian/pseuds/kindred_aquarian
Summary: "...something about the way Jenna's looking at him, something about thekindnessandmomin her voice, just… cuts soundly through the resistant reply building within Theo’s chest...“Okay,”he says, sounding smaller than he means to,'... thank you.'From the next room over, he hears Liam’s exhale."---on god we're getting Theo a real bed to sleep in
Relationships: Liam Dunbar/Theo Raeken, Thiam - Relationship
Series: and they were *roommates* [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1733476
Comments: 18
Kudos: 71





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...heyyyyyyyyyyyyy guys  
> this first chapter is way longer than I planned which hopefully makes up for how sporadically I post he he ha ha
> 
> Please note this is a 5+1 multi chapter **prequel** to "i could stare at your back all day", you can read them in either order though!

The first night that Theo spent at the Geyer-Dunbar house wasn’t even really spent _in_ the house. It had taken a weeks long fight between the two boys, with Liam tirelessly chasing down Theo’s truck in parking lots and down woodsy dirt roads at all hours, trying to convince him to ‘ _just try it, Theo. One week, and then I’ll leave you alone if that’s really what you want.’_

Of course, Liam knew that once his mother found out about Theo’s situation, there was no way she’d let him leave after just one week. At least, not without a thorough promise of finding Theo _‘some security and stability, Liam! No member of your, um… your_ pack!— _should be without a home, especially when we have a perfectly good guest room in this house.’_ At this point, Liam was counting on it.

Theo must have sensed it too, from the way he flat out refused Liam; he constantly tried to lie his way out from under Liam’s attention—pushed him away, fought Liam in the drugstore parking lot at 2 PM and got them _both thrown out_ —but none of it mattered to Liam, who could see how clearly pronounced the dark, haunted circles under Theo’s eyes had grown. Liam’s heart wrenched at the wild fear desperately contained there, with a tight _worry that_ coiled stronger and stronger inside his chest for each time he found Theo curled up in the backseat, alone. He always looked so uncharacteristically _small_ like that—with a balled up pillow under his head, and a threadbare throw blanket tangled up around his legs. The rancid layers of the built up, desperate, unconscious _fear_ scent that Theo couldn’t hide in sleep clung unbearably to the air, burning Liam’s sinuses and lingering in the stale space of the truck. And _still…_ Liam sighed. _Still,_ every single time that Liam would track him down and wake him— _or sometimes,_ not _wake him, if he were sleeping soundly, which was rare_ —Theo would run.

Tonight was one of the rarer nights. 

Liam doesn’t understand how Theo stands it; doesn’t know _why_ he’s being so _fucking difficult_ —Theo gives a small snort in his sleep, like a protest to Liam’s thoughts. He waits, but Theo doesn’t stir further. Liam exhales the breath he’s holding in a sigh. 

Liam might be kind of oblivious to a lot of things, but he _knows_ Theo _needs_ him— _or someone_ —like he knows how to breathe, without thinking, without question. Mason and Corey might not say what they’re really thinking every time Liam dips out on their after-school hangouts to chase Theo around Beacon Hills, only exchanging a knowing glance in that adorably incessant soulmate-y way of theirs as they tell Liam to be careful.

 _But that’s fine,_ Liam thinks, as long as they _trust him on this._ Just because _Theo’s_ too much of a _damaged, stubborn asshole_ to admit that he’s in crisis doesn’t change the fact that he is. For now, though...

Liam’s eyes hone in on the darkened path behind him as he turns and backs away from the truck… he _knows_ he needs to put an end to this, to keep Theo safe. _and it doesn't matter why Liam cares so much,_ he thinks, recalling the way Theo had reached out to him, that night in the hospital, arm flung out across Liam's frame and pushing forward as the bullets sprayed all around them. _It doesn't matter,_ but the memory of the smell of Theo's blood as he was hit then, in that shoulder, begs to differ.

\---

Liam doesn’t get another chance to—in Mason’s words, _‘try and harass Theo into domestication’_ —until the following Saturday, while he’s tagging along on his mom’s weekly trip to the grocery store. 

Liam spots Theo’s truck the second it comes into view, parked at the edge of the lot as they pull into the shopping plaza.

“ _Mom_ ,” Liam murmurs, nearly falling over himself as he scrambles out of the car and toward the car. Then he calls again, louder, “mom, come meet my friend.”

Jenna raises an eyebrow, folding down the sale flyer in her hand and turning to study Liam where he now stands next to her open driver’s side door. But he’s not looking at her—he’s distractedly bouncing up and down on the balls of his feet, with his head turned back over his shoulder to watch the blue truck parked across the way. Liam doesn’t offer her any further explanation, but still Jenna follows her son away from the store, allowing him to gently drag her by the arm until they’re right up next to the backseat door on the drivers’ side.

Liam knocks on the window, and someone inside startles awake, lifting his head from the pillow bunched under his head. Suddenly… Jenna _understands._ The boy inside rolls his eyes at Liam, but the momentary surprise coloring the gaunt lines of his face upon registering Jenna’s presence makes her heart flip.

The boy’s expression shifts to something more guarded and polite, and Jenna watches the way he quickly and carefully tucks away the traces of vulnerability behind those tired eyes before sitting up and opening the door. The motion forces Liam to back up a few steps. But once the door clears him, he quickly slots himself back in that open space—his concern for his… _friend_ in the truck would be apparent in his body language, she thinks, even if she weren’t his mother.

Then there’s silence. Clearly, Liam hadn’t thought this far ahead. He stares at the boy, who stares right back at him. The boy blinks his green eyes slowly, silently amused, but it's tinged with an exasperation and embarrassment that Jenna pretends to miss.

Jenna steps in, waving at him over her son’s shoulder.

“Hi there! My name’s Jenna, I’m Liam’s mom.” She offers warmly, and then to Liam: “Liam, who’s your friend?”

Liam blinks back at the boy, eyes locked onto his in a silent conversation until Liam manages, “Theo! Mom, this is Theo.”

“Well, Theo, it’s nice to meet you! I suppose you hang around with Melissa’s boy, Scott… Stiles, and Mason and Corey and all of them. It’s a wonder we haven’t met before! Are you on the lacrosse team at Beacon Hills, too?”

Theo suppresses a cringe at the mention of the pack, their betrayed faces flashing somewhere in his memory. _“_ Yeah… Something like that. But no, I’m out of school already, actually, with Scott’s class. And I’m more of a... a chess player anyway.”

Jenna laughs, and Liam jumps a bit, by her side, at the sound.

 _“Oh!_ Well in that case, I wonder if you could teach Liam a thing or two. His dad tried to teach him to play a couple years back, but he just couldn’t find the patience to enjoy it.”

Theo chuckles low, eyeing Liam. "Oh, _really?_ "

Liam shifts again, _"_ _Actually,_ I have _plenty_ of patience — ”

Jenna interrupts him, with a hand placed on his tense shoulder. _“Y’know Theo, L_ iam and I were just heading in to grab some ingredients for dinner tonight. My husband’s making this _amazing_ lasagna recipe... I’m in charge of salad and dessert, if you’d like to join us.”

“Oh, well I don’t know if — ”

Liam scrambles to interject: _“_ That sounds great, mom! Great idea! And then after we can… uh,” he stumbles at the next words. Theo’s bewildered gaze on him, he manages to spit out: _“...hang out!”_

For a few, stretched seconds, Jenna waits while the two boys seem to have a silent conversation. _Or maybe it’s more like a fight?_ She’s not sure. Liam still hasn’t relaxed under the hand she still has on his shoulder… but he seems far more determined than _angry_ at all _,_ which _bodes well_ for the future of their grocery store patronage.

Finally, Theo blinks and exhales despite himself, under the two matching pairs of bright blue eyes watching him, too caught off-guard to argue.

“Sure, as long as I’m not… um... intruding. Sounds nice.”

\---

And so, later that evening, Theo turns up on the Geyer-Dunbar’s doorstep; his hands bunched into his pockets and reeking of barely-concealed anxiety when Liam opens the door.

Liam startles at the scent, and Theo intercepts the expression before it can turn to worry, with an offended huff. _“Shut up.”_

Immediately irritated, Liam scoffs back, _“What?_ I didn’t even say anything! Could you for _once_ just… you… _You’re such a_ — _”_

A modicum of the tension leaches from Theo’s frame at the familiarity of bickering, the ease of pissing Liam off. He leans against the door propped open by Liam’s arm insolently, and Liam’s about to tell him _exactly what he is_ … but suddenly the quiet, smug smile blooming on his lips turns clean and polite, plastered over his expression rather than growing there. Curtailed, Liam follows Theo’s gaze back over his shoulder, just as his mother turns the corner into the hallway and catches sight of the two of them in the doorway.

“Oh, Theo, hi! _Liam,_ stop letting flies in and bring your friend inside already.” 

Theo turns that stupid award-winning grin on Liam, and Liam scowls back, his back turned to hide it from Jenna. He waves Theo inside past him, and he’s _trying_ really hard to keep that annoyance firmly fixtured onto his scent… but still, a quiet steadiness fills him at the way that acrid scent of anxiety in the air is already dissipating. It lessens, to a dull thrum of energy he feels buzzing and burrowing under his own skin. He recognizes it as _caution_ , undercurrenting Theo’s usual scent: neat, deliberate _neutrality,_ and faint autumn leaves floating over an even fainter note of _something-chemical and earthy_ . A beast like relief curls up, warm and pleased, inside Liam at the sight of Theo’s blue truck parked in their driveway. He turns away from the front yard and shuts the door behind him.

\---

Theo follows Liam’s mom through the front entryway, lip curling at the way Liam’s lingering still in the doorway. Liam’s family’s house is… _nice_ . _Home-y. Personal._ The walls of the front hallway are cream-white, but not cold, not empty: filled with family photo frames and lacrosse memorabilia, a dark wooden grandfather clock ticking low and steady against one wall. Theo’s unnerved for a moment by the sheer _normalcy_ of it all—how newly benign and comforting the scent of Liam and his family feels—wrapped around him.

Still, unnerved or not, he can’t shake the _safe_ feeling. The calm weight of the house and its occupants settles around his shoulders, releasing something wound tightly that makes it a _little_ easier to put on his usual parent-approved charm and get through the initial introductions to Liam’s father, before they sit down for dinner. It's strange. For once, he kind of wishes he didn't have to hide who he is… about who he’s been. what he’s done. But, _somehow_ , it also doesn’t exactly feel like opening with _‘hi, my name’s Theo, I manipulated your son and almost killed his alpha in an attempt to tear his life and everything he loves apart! Please pass the grated cheese?’_ would go over well... So when Dr. Geyer asks how the two of them came to be _‘friends’_ , he resolves to, um... avoid the complete truth of it.

Theo takes in the room as they sit down to eat. The deep, robust red walls of the dining room are splashed with glowing accents of fiery gold and bright colors from the suncatcher hanging in the big bay window, refracting the late rays of sun. The smell of the food wafting through from the kitchen makes Theo feel a little desperate as he realizes how _hungry_ he is. His stomach growls audibly, and— _Liam’s eyes are the coolest thing in the room_ —Theo thinks insanely, under the crystalline blue gaze that’s been fixed on him practically since he walked through the door.

But then Liam blinks away, and they’re digging in, and— _oh my_ god _, that’s good._

“Really good lasagna, Dr. Geyer.” Theo says, around a mouthful of food, and he _means it_ . Theo hasn’t eaten a real _meal_ like this in so long, so he can’t even bring himself to pretend he’s not starving or hide his gratitude as he shovels bites of the lasagna into his mouth.

He does have _some_ dignity though, smiling and ever-engaging in the small talk and polite questions Liam’s parents are directing at him across the table. It’s more that can be said for Liam, who Theo thinks has probably never been this quiet in his _life._ Liam keeps looking over at Theo, his eyes flicking over Theo with the complete lack of subtlety that plagues him, like he can’t quite reconcile the image of _big bad Theo_ in his family’s dining room.

“Theo, you can call me David. You’re not one of my patients, you’re a guest here. Frankly, it’s nice to see you boys in a more… _relaxed setting,_ for a change. It seems to me you all are always running around my ER making a mess and saving the world and whatnot _.”_ Doctor Geyer points his fork at Theo, swiveling it between him and Liam. Liam’s mom’s heart skips, and Liam startles at both the sound of it and at being suddenly addressed. Liam’s expression darkens a bit, turning red as he ducks his head down, but he doesn’t correct him.

Theo imagines it: _the way Liam’s lip should curl in disdain at the notion that he and Theo are on the same team, an old threat on the tip of his tongue as he realizes just what a mistake it was bringing someone like Theo into his house, around his family.._. 

Something complicated, like guilt, twists uncomfortably inside of him, and he suddenly remembers that he shouldn’t _be here,_ that Scott wouldn’t want him here, and _doesn’t Liam know that?_ The food he’s taken solidifies into a heavy stone in his stomach, weighing on him.

Theo smiles politely back as he puts down his fork, meeting Doctor Geyer’s eyes. _“_ Well, who knows how long it’ll last. You know what they say about rest for the wicked, right?” Liam tenses, and Theo continues, keeping his tone light. “Someone's gotta keep the bad guys down. _Anyway_ , I for one am really learning to appreciate the lasagna in life in the meantime, and… _whatnot.”_ It earns him a glare from the younger boy, and Theo smirks behind his forkful of food.

\---

 _He can handle this. He’s smooth. A strategic and steady liar by nature._ _But this..._ Theo swallows, sitting on the couch with his hands carefully still in his lap, unsure of what to do with himself.

Liam’s parents are still in the kitchen cleaning up from dinner. Theo had volunteered himself and Liam _(much to Liam’s chagrin)_ to take on dish-duty, but Jenna and David just waved them off: _'_ _go pick out a board game from the hall closet, or_ —Oh! _Y’know what, maybe you can teach Liam a thing or two about chess, Theo. David’s set is on the top shelf on the right!'_ Jenna suggested with an encouraging smile. Theo smiled back at her—the charming parent pleaser one, but with his usual teasing humor in it too—then turned to Liam, knocking him with his elbow.

_'C’mon Liam, I promise I’ll take it easy on you.'_

Liam flicked Theo in the arm back, face scrunching: ' _Well I won’t. Let’s do this, ass_ — _!'_ Jenna’s eyebrow shot up as Liam caught himself, turning bright red before amending: _”'uh, butt... butthole.'_ David snorted, out from behind his wife, whose stern look was still fixed on Liam.

Liam shifted, sheepishly darting a glance at his mother before clearing his throat. ' _Uh thanks, mom. Dad.'_

Theo suppressed a laugh as Liam turned on his heel and sped off towards the hall closet, and followed behind him.

...

 _But now…_ Theo shifts his sitting position, just once, looking downward at his hands.

Theo looks up when Liam pads into the living room in bare feet, with the chess set in hand, the box clasped over his chest. _This is entirely new territory._

Liam plops down on the floor, on one side of the low coffee table between them, and Theo moves to the floor on the couch side, mirroring Liam’s crossed legs.

They start off with the basics—what pieces can move where, board set up, et cetera et cetera—all things that Liam keeps interrupting to insist that he already knows:

“oh my god...yes I know. Yes, stop acting like I’m two years old! Theo I know where the queen goes — _HEY, WHAT THE HELL? Y-_ You did that on purpose!’

And well… _duh,_ Theo thinks with a self-satisfied look as he ‘accidentally’ knocks over another piece, ruining the board set up for the third time. He shrugs.

As fun as riling up Liam like this is, Theo is entirely too aware that he's a guest in Jenna and David's house, and he doesn't exactly want to piss off anyone who's willing to give away free hot meals to teenaged murderers. _Besides_ , Theo resists the urge to laugh as Liam slaps his hands away from the pieces he's knocked askew, righting them himself with an impatient huff. _He can almost pretend he could be Liam's friend_ , like this.

They start the game, and for all of Theo’s teasing… Liam’s pretty good at this. He’s newer to chess than Theo, and he’s impulsive and naive as ever… but he’s smart, he’s got nerve, and he can read Theo better than most… Good instincts.

The moments pass in measures of turns taken, moves considered, calculated looks exchanged over the board. Theo’s thinking about how nice it is to play with someone who can keep up—how nice it is to play chess again, _period_ —when David calls out to them from the kitchen, breaking the silent reverie.

 _“Hey boys, we know you’re still in the middle of a game, but we were hoping you’d want to watch a movie with us? We’re pretty much done here.”_ He looks to Jenna, who shuts the water off and turns the stove burner on underneath a waiting tea kettle.

Theo looks up, eyes flitting to the clock as Liam twists, sounding off an affirmative to his parents. It’s 8:30 PM already, the last of the sun’s rays long since leached from the sky, now a dusty blueish purple. If he doesn’t leave soon, he’ll stick out to deputies patrolling the roads later, and he might have trouble finding parking.

He’s gearing up to formulate a graceful excuse to skip out on the movie and make his exit, and it’s on the tip of his tongue when Jenna and David come into the living room with piles of blankets and a bowl of popcorn. Liam moves the chess board carefully over to the side table as David makes the space cozy, and Theo’s eyes dart to the clock once more, and then to the front door. He tries:

 _“Well, actually I, um_ — _”_

Jenna interjects, gently putting her hand on his shoulder with a smile. _“Theo, hon, could I talk to you for a minute?”_ she phrases it like a question, but Liam’s avoiding his eyes all of a sudden, so Theo knows there’s no questioning at all. He follows her into the hallway, just far enough to pretend to be out of normal human earshot.

”I um, I think it’s best if I just get straight to the point… _Listen_ , Theo, after I met you earlier in the parking lot I asked Liam to tell me if you’re living in your car, and, well... _Please don’t be angry with him,_ we both know he can’t lie to save his life, so he wouldn’t have been able to hide it anyway. I’m not judging you, and I don’t want to make you uncomfortable or embarrass you. I can see that Liam feels the same way, and that he respects your privacy, and that that’s why he didn’t tell me about this sooner.”

Theo blinks under her gaze, and she continues:

“I’ve already talked it over with David and he agrees with me: it doesn’t feel right to let you leave here tonight knowing you have nowhere to stay. We have a perfectly good guest room upstairs, and we’d really like it if you’d take it for as long as you need it. We can discuss it further later, and help you figure out something more permanent if that’s what you want, but for now… please. If not for your own sake, then for mine and for Liam’s.”

And something about the way she’s looking at him, something about the _kindness_ and _mom_ in her voice, just… _cuts_ soundly through the resistant reply building within Theo’s chest, leaving him heavy _._ They want to let someone like him into their lives? Fine. He at _least_ has enough self-preservation instinct left to take what he’s given in life.

 _“Okay,”_ he says, sounding smaller than he means to, _“... thank you.”_

From the next room over, he hears Liam’s exhale.

**\---**

The evening is so quiet with just the four of them in the house, getting ready for bed. After the movie’s ended, Liam moves the four empty tea mugs and popcorn bowl over to the sink while David folds the blankets and straightens up the couch cushions.

Through the sleepy bustle of clinking spoons, rustling fabric, and creaking floorboards, Liam’s mother guides Theo up the stairs to the guest room that shares a wall with Liam’s room. Through a yawn, she assures him the sheets on the bed are _fresh,_ _for the sake of that wolfy nose of yours_ , she says.

She leaves him there, sitting on the bed, with a smile and a reassurance to _please, make yourself comfortable. Let us know if you need anything, hon._ He nods after her already retreating form, and then realizes he needs his toothbrush and change of clothes from his backseat. So he goes back downstairs and out to the driveway, sitting in the front seat of the silent truck with the open duffle bag in his hands, hands worrying over familiar worn fabric. He pretends not to feel Liam staring at him from somewhere inside the house, and he expects Liam to come out and accuse him of trying to run away. Maybe he is.

But the front door remains shut, no Liam in sight, and Theo can only imagine it’s Jenna’s will alone that keeps him from invading Theo’s space like usual. His keys lie on the seat next to him, the ignition silent. He’s not running, _not yet._

**\---**

He does go back in, after a long while. The house is dim save for a few nightlights in the dark halls and the lights under Liam’s, and Jenna and David’s, bedroom doors; Theo makes his way up the stairs slowly and tries to convince his body that _he can sleep here_ . _He will sleep here. They’re being so nice to him, and he can act normal for one night damn it._

When he slides— _too noisily, in the otherwise empty guest room_ —under the covers, he really does try to remain calm and go to sleep. But the house is too unfamiliar, filled with scents that aren’t _dirt_ and _control_ and _fear_ like Theo. The three other heartbeats are too loud, Liam’s scent too close and not close enough, and he can practically _feel_ Liam listening to him as he tries to get settled. Theo tosses and turns, tries turning the lights on, and then when that fails he gets up and turns them back off again. He tries the same with the window, thinking the night air will help—but it’s just another unguarded point of entry, of attack—so he closes it. _Fuck it._

His skin bristles hot with guilt, and childish frustration as Theo admits defeat; he grabs his beat up pillow and heads out to sleep inside his truck, parked in the driveway. _Let Liam try and stop him._

He doesn’t.

**\---**

Liam watches him from the window as he goes, at first fearing that he’s _leaving_ leaving, but then relaxing a bit as the engine remains silent and Theo climbs into the backseat. Liam keeps watching until he hears Theo’s pulse settle, previously uncontrolled in his pure exhaustion, and he sighs, hoping he'll still be there in the morning.

**\---**

Theo closes his eyes, and lets the dreams come.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm posting this before I lose my nerve and let the draft sit for another few months untouched so... if there are mistakes, no there aren't <3 come bully me at kindred-aquarian on tumblr about it<3
> 
> Also, I realize that in my writing so far I'm characterizing Theo to exhibit a lot more emotion and signs of cPTSD than he does in canon, but like first of all we projecting sksksksk hjgfkjhgfdkjhgf AND second of all I honestly think it's realistic in a way??? Like sometimes people who've been chronically traumatized don't show the 'signs' of being traumatized in the same way (hence the 'POST traumatic stress disorder') they might after they're able to escape the environment because while they're in that traumatizing danger zone they're just so focused on basic survival that they might have to 'shut down' the way Theo has in canon to achieve that... basically, now that he's out of that situation and is physically (relatively) safe and much more emotionally supported, he now has that space and time to *feel*. So I imagine his post traumatic stress would be a lot of emotional hyperarousal and panic as he learns to navigate and regulate emotions in a healthy way (and I have a LOT of feelings about Liam + his experiences with IED helping Theo learn how to cope... just... wait. just read this you'll see YOU'LL ALL SEE)


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content warning: this chapter contains **in-depth description of a PTSD nightmare and of the subsequent panic** , complete with all the gory details (because this is Theo’s trauma we’re talking about.) Please take care of yourself! **If you’d like to skip this section, control+F search for “Let’s get you a glass of water” when you get to the part where Theo falls asleep on the couch. See end notes for a gentler summary of that part. :)**
> 
> The wonderful Li0nh34rt (on [ao3](https://archiveofourown.org/users/li0nh34rt) and on [Tumblr](https://li0nh34rt.tumblr.com/)) has brought one of the paintings described in this chapter to life, which I'm so excited about!! You can find it [here](https://li0nh34rt.tumblr.com/post/640120574541185024/for-kindred-aquarian-and-their-amazing-story-5) to show it the love it deserves!

The first thing that Liam does when he wakes the next morning is bound over to the window and rip open the shade, eyes searching for Theo through the windshield of his truck, which is— _ thankfully _ —still parked out front.

_ Theo _ , however, is  _ not  _ inside of it. For a moment, Liam panics.

His mind runs with the possibilities, his senses sharpening to get a better picture… but something about it isn’t quite right. He smells his parents and he smells breakfast and he smells Theo— _ ’stronger than it should be, if he’s not here,’  _ Liam thinks,  _ ‘and there’s no sign of a struggle from here, wouldn’t there be a struggle if _ —?’ ...Suddenly, the gentle scraping and clattering of plates accompanied by the sound of voices from downstairs brings his runaway train of thought to a screeching halt.  _ Oh… right. _

Liam’s face flushes, heart still pounding, equally relieved and embarrassed although grateful that no one’s seen his freak-out. Breathing deep, Liam scrubs his hands down his face and hastily runs his fingers through his hair a few times before heading downstairs to the kitchen.

As he grows nearer, he can hear his parents and Theo, talking over some conditions of Theo staying:  _ “You’ve already found work, which is great! This way you can have some time to save up and figure out what you want to do from here: college, or whatever. You can stay with us as long as you need to, as long as you do your own laundry, help with dinner a night or two every week… and…well.” David hesitates, but Jenna finishes the phrase: _

_ “You and Liam keep looking out for each other, okay?” _

It comes through the wall somewhat muffled, but the words are unmistakable. Liam’s heart jumps as he hangs back, awaiting Theo’s reply.

_ “Well, if that’s all you want from me, I really am lucky. So… thank you.” _

Liam can’t see Theo’s face, and he probably wouldn’t be able to tell there were more or less to Theo’s words than their face value, even if he could… but Liam smiles anyway.

\---

It’s Sunday, meaning that (since no one is currently trying to kill them) there’s not much for any of the house’s occupants to do… with the exception of David, who’s got a night on call at BHM to rest up for. The house is quiet, but busy in small ways. Liam’s doing pre-calc homework and hating every minute of it, Jenna’s working on an art piece in the garage… and Theo, on his one out of two days a week off from work, is doing nothing.  _ Literally nothing _ . He’d tried to help Liam with homework, but then they started their squabbling as usual and Jenna told them to  _ take it outside or separate _ .

So now, Theo’s on the couch in the living room (which seems like the most neutral, least intrusive space for him to be.) This is all still so bizarre to him, after spending so long underground or in the backseat of a truck. The clock in the hallway beside him ticks steadily, and Theo can hear how  _ old  _ it is, though it’s still sturdy. It’s probably been ticking that way for decades. Anyway. No more procrastination.

Theo knows that he needs to figure out how to sleep here at  _ some point _ , and preferably soon, if this is going to work out. So right now—with the midnoon sunshine coming in strong through the windows of the room, warming it almost a little  _ too  _ well—seems like as good a time as any to try.

He lies back, swings his legs up to rest on the couch cushions, and takes a throw pillow to hold over his chest. His eyes flutter shut, arms crossed firmly over the plush material, and he sighs into the worn and comfortable couch beneath him.

\---

_ She’s in the house. _

_ Theo wakes up under a bed, his old bed, from before the Dread Doctors came. _

_ It’s pushed against the wall on one side, and there’s a bedskirt hanging down to meet the floor on the other side. It’s dark, but he can see dust bunnies and lost socks and long forgotten crayons on the floor around him. But there’s no time to reminisce, no time to rejoice in lost things found: he can hear Tara crying, and running water, and cracking bones somewhere in the house, outside the confines of this underbed space. He might be somewhere different, but he still knows what’s coming next. _

_ There’s no point in prolonging this, he’ll only lose ground to run to with every second he spends under the bed. It’s happening already: the crying stops suddenly with a splash, and the sound of distant, wet footsteps begins. Theo’s (Tara’s) heart jumps and he writhes out, head first, pushing off from the wall. When his head clears the ruffle-y fabric hanging down, though, it’s not his room at all. Or, well… it’s not the room he thought. It’s his room _ — _ the guest room _ — _ in the Geyer-Dunbar house. _

_ He can still hear Tara’s sobs, but now there’s another heartbeat in the mix. The grandfather clock in the front hallway downstairs is ticking too; out of time with the steps still sloshing in that ominous echo, coming now from every direction. Theo scrambles to his feet, confused, and staggers to the closed bedroom door. _

_ “Theeeeeooo… ” Tara’s voice is closer, creaking up the stairs, wet and slow. _

_ He takes a shaky breath and opens the door fast, stepping out into the hall, and there she is: chest cavity ripped open and gaping, long hair soaked and stark black against her pale skin and tattered clothes. But she’s just standing there, halfway down the hall and smiling darkly at him. The stillness in her shoulders is so resolute, so predatory, Theo feels like he’s already dead. The second heartbeat, though, keeps beating steady in another room, as though unaware of the imminent danger. _

_ This is different. This is all wrong. _

_ She smiles wider, like he’s said it aloud. Then she raises one hand _ ,  _ unbearably slow _ ,  _ and plunges it into her open chest. There’s a sickening squelch as she fishes around in the carnage _ — _ stirring the scent of death and moist decay. Something very old and important sounding gives way with a sickening  _ **_crack_ ** _ , and she pulls out her rib bone. _

_ Tara brandishes the gore-covered makeshift dagger in one fist, and locks eyes with Theo once more. She draws a wet, rattling breath and laughs a single, humorless sound. She doesn’t even need to say the words: not yet _ .

_He’s confused again, and so very, very_ afraid… _he’s always hated this part the most. The suspense. The dread, before she kills him. Tara shifts, and he flinches, but she’s turning_ ** _away_** _from him, and toward a different, closed door…_

_ Liam’s door. _

_ His stomach drops in the same moment that time and space seem to glitch out from under him, leaving Theo out in the hallway alone when it resets… and Liam’s door is open. _

_ He runs toward it blindly, and the hallway stretches and warps in front of him, the heartbeat—Liam’s heartbeat—louder now. It’s slow, too slow, and Tara’s laughing, calling, “Theeeeooo...” again and again. The walls are dingy and the smell of mildew and rotting leaves strangles Theo’s senses. He blinks and suddenly the hallway is filled with frigid water, up to his chest, the ice-filled current of the stream pulling him away from Liam’s room. Tara’s laughing, and Theo’s begging her now: _

_ “Tara… please, just listen to me, Tara. No! No, leave him alone, Tara, stop! You know he didn’t do anything... it was all me, remember? Tara! Please, just kill me, okay? Don’t fucking touch him.” _

_ Theo fights against the water desperately, fingers and toes going numb, until his fingers grip the side of the open doorway. He pulls himself to the threshold, Tara and Liam in full view:  _

  
  


_ Liam’s lying on his bed, temple bloodied and eyes fluttering, unconscious. Theo’s screaming for him to  _ **_wake up, Liam, get up please_ ** _ — as he claws his way through the frigid water into the room. _

_ Finally, when he makes it in, he reaches out—and suddenly he’s strapped into one of the Dread Doctors’ chairs, tilted up to witness the scene before him. _ ****

_ Without further ceremony, she plunges the sharp rib bone through the middle of Liam’s chest and twists it, pulling the blade up, up, up until the wound is large enough to force open with her hands jammed between his ribs. Still, Liam makes no movement other than a subconscious, full body jerk, and for that his eyes are darting under their lids, trapped in a nightmare of his own. _

_Theo’s screaming and screaming, pulling at the restraints tirelessly at the sight of_ so much blood _spilling out and over Liam and Tara both. It’s pooling on the bed, saturating the sheets, and dripping now onto the floor… and Tara’s still digging around, taking her time as she removes Liam’s heart. When she pulls it out, Liam’s blue eyes finally snap open wide, in pain and confused, flickering gold, and Theo can’t bear it. The sickening, suction_ pop _noise his heart makes as it’s ripped out pulls a sobbing retch from Theo’s body. He squeezes his eyes shut in the afterimage, and when he opens them again Tara’s turned around to face him…_

_ Except it’s not Tara anymore, but rather, a version of  _ Theo  _ standing there… he’s wearing that old, familiar and cruel grin, of a killer with pride. Cold, feeling only power and revelation in the mire of destruction. The mirror copy of Theo drops the makeshift weapon from one hand and unsheathes his claws, clutching Liam’s heart in the other tightly. _

_ Theo watches helplessly as fake-Theo tightens his dangerous grip on the organ, squeezing until it  _ **_bursts_ ** _. Up until now Liam had been alive still, making these awful sounds— gurgling and choking for air, his body seizing and clawing the bloody bedding around him—but now he falls silent. A broken cry pulls free from Theo’s raw throat and he throws his whole body once more at the restraints keeping him from Liam’s side. _

_ Somewhere inside of his panic, he can hear himself still begging to be let go, for Liam to be saved, as futile as it seems now. He doesn’t know what else to do, with this ‘Theo’ standing indifferent to watching him break completely and then break some more. It should be over by now. It’s usually Theo that gets it, and it’s usually over by now. Why isn’t it?  _ **_Why—_ **

\---

Theo sits up fast, pulse racing and back covered in sweat. His chest heaves as he gasps and clutches it desperately, the throw pillow discarded halfway across the room in his panic. He shakes out his wrists, writhing away from the memory of the restraints biting into his skin.  _ It wasn’t real,  _ he thinks somewhere small and muted in the back of his mind:  _ It was a dream.  _ But the rest of him remains unconvinced and searching for Liam, as the new details of the recurring nightmare trickle back into his memory. There’s bile burning in his throat and his whole body’s shaking, way, way worse than usual. This  _ isn’t usual. _ He gasps for air, swinging his legs back down to the floor harshly and knocking into the coffee table in his hurry to get under control, to  _ get out— _

Theo barely registers the sting of pain through the all-encompassing numbness and panic thrumming through him like liquid static, making his body way too light for the crashing feeling that’s coming fast as he heads out the door. The memory of time between standing from the couch and crossing the threshold of the house is already completely lost, somehow, and Theo steps out into the low, evening sunlight, the golden, blinding rays catching in his eyes and disorienting his step down onto the front walkway. He turns toward his truck, to go sit there, to drive, to do  _ something _ , but suddenly there’s someone there, coming toward him from the open garage. He startles, claws and fangs unsheathing because  _ it’s her, it’s real, she’s here, and  _ **_Liam_ ** _ —  _ but then he turns and the hair isn’t right, the person there is too tall and dressed in a colorfully stained apron. The woman stops in her tracks, arms up in a placating motion, calling out to him, but  _ not like Tara _ ... and

_ “Theo, honey,  _ are you alright?  _ What’s wrong?” _

Jenna’s voice registers and shocks him, shifting him back, and his heart’s still pounding but now it’s  _ shame  _ underneath—for the frightened glint in her eye she’s trying to suppress for his sake. His eyes fill unbidden with tears, much to his dismay, and he chokes out:

_ “Oh…  _ I thought…  _ oh my god  _ I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to— _ ”  _ Theo’s mouth hangs open for a moment, then shuts with a click when he can’t find the words. He pulls back, scrubbing his sleeve across his eyes and blinking, holding his breath and then choking in another before forcing it to go as close to normal as he can get it.

“I’m sorry,” he starts again, and looks up at her to begin to explain himself, but she doesn’t look afraid anymore. She looks like she gets it, somehow, like she already knows:

_ “It’s okay,” _ she says, “you’re okay. Let’s get you a glass of water.”

\---

Theo follows Jenna into the garage and she sits him down on a tall metal stool by a workbench area. The table surface is filled with paint bottles and brushes, paper towels and mugs and cups of different colored paint water of all sizes… it’s clearly organized by the lack of it, in a meaningful kind of disarray beside an easel mid-use. She leaves him there only for a moment to go through the garage door to the kitchen and grab him a clean glass, and she returns with the water, and with a dish of lemon slices. She pushes the water cup gently into Theo’s hands, and he’s silently grateful, raising it to his lips and drinking slowly. She sets the other dish down onto the table, popping a lemon slice directly into her mouth rather than into her water glass, to his surprise.

“Some people find that the shock of the taste helps,” Jenna explains, clearing a bit of space on the table and carefully moving her own easel to the side. “Want one?”

She pulls her stool closer to Theo as he sips water numbly. He eyes the lemon slices carefully before reaching out to take one, placing it on his tongue like a communion wafer and closing his mouth around it. The sour flavored juice bursts over his tongue and makes his mouth water a bit, and he grimaces, but he doesn’t spit it out. She smiles lightly.

The two of them sit in the silence for a moment, the electric hum of the lights above them underscoring Theo’s slow descent back down into his body, almost more tired than before the nap now, but far too wired to think about sleep. The lemon slice  _ is  _ helping, he thinks, in the same way that a purposeful broken bone can help trigger supernatural healing sometimes. As Theo looks around the garage-turned-studio-that’s-still-also-a-garage, he sees Jenna’s artwork displayed among the racks of tools and hoses and boxes of Christmas lights and whatnot scattered through the space.  _ It’s a common trait around here _ , Theo thinks,  _ of living,  _ for a person to leave these kinds of traces around behind them and call it  _ home _ . It’s something that used to drive him crazy about Liam, even before Theo went under. He was always leaving an extra sweatshirt at the animal clinic, or sticking one of those DIY kit paintable bobblehead dogs on Mason’s dashboard without prompting, bringing a book to Scott’s house and forgetting it there… Theo could never be so loud, so obvious, and survive. Not the way things were for him, not with the things he ‘had’ to do. He never made a move unless it was a calculated one, never created something to be witnessed by others, like art, for the sake of doing it.  _ Never genuine _ .

Blinking once, out of his reverie, Theo moves his gaze back to Jenna’s current painting, nearly finished. It’s abstract, and loud. The off-white canvas is long since hidden under layers and layers of textured paint of all different colors. Theo isn’t sure what it’s supposed to  _ mean  _ exactly, because  _ isn’t art supposed to look like something?  _ but even still, he sorta likes it.

Jenna smiles again in his periphery, and she asks him,

“You want to paint something?”

Theo finds himself nodding before he can think better of it, and she sets him up with a painting smock, a fresh canvas and easel, paints, brushes, a palette, and water.

He hesitates. It’s  _ way  _ more overwhelming than it should be, looking at the blank expanse before him. But Jenna seems to read his mind easily:

“You don’t have to plan it. Just start with one color that you like, and try moving the brush different ways until something feels right.”

Nodding again, Theo picks up a brush, taking blue paint onto the clean bristles. He frowns. It’s way too dark, not the right blue at all. Cautiously, he wipes it onto a palette and mixes it with some white. Theo swirls the paint in a way that seems okay, watching the colors swirl and blur together until a beautiful, soft baby blue pulls through and stays consistent. Theo just  _ starts painting _ blue, that soft baby blue and then slightly greener and deeper shades mixed in, layering in with soft, curved strokes and blending the lines until the canvas is nearly covered. He adds swirls of light brown and lightest pink, and white, with tiny streaking movements. He paints it full of life,  _ genuine  _ life and breathing, forming a small galaxy of just these colors and nothing  _ (everything)  _ else. He doesn’t know how he knows  it’s done , but he does, and  it is _.  _ Theo leans back, inhaling a deep, clean breath that makes Jenna look up from her work too.

But when he’s done it’s far too beautiful, it’s  _ perfect  _ and full of love, and it’s embarrassing because it’s nothing like Theo has any claim to being or making. So, he dips his claws into the red paint and flicks a few droplets at random over it. The crimson contrast splattered on the otherwise cared-for surface is startling. Perhaps the meaning it makes  is  a little (a lot) heavy handed… but it gets the point across just the same.

He sets down the brush, wiping his paint-stained claws on the apron.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi y’all!  
>  **People who hit that mf skip button on the part with the content warning:** The gist is that Theo has a nightmare that Tara rips out Liam’s heart but then when she turns around to look at Theo she suddenly IS Theo, like a mirror version I mean. Then he wakes up in a BIG panic attack, triggered by the nightmare understandably. he goes outside to ‘get out’ and sit in his truck of something and Jenna sees him because she was in the garage with the door open painting and at first he’s all wolfed out bc fight or flight but he calms down a bit when he realizes it’s her, apologizes, and she brings him in for a glass of water/to ride out the panic attack.
> 
> **Everyone: This poor boy 😭 😭 I put him through so much smh.  
> **  
>  Thanks for reading, and for your patience between updates! I appreciate every one of you:)


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